


Be a Good Boy

by AndreaDTX



Series: What's Your Fantasy? [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Dean Winchester/Top Sam Winchester, Consensual Non-Consent, Forced Orgasm, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Overstimulation, Rimming, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-24
Updated: 2017-11-24
Packaged: 2019-02-06 04:42:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12809871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndreaDTX/pseuds/AndreaDTX
Summary: Something's come over Sam and Dean's not sure what to make of it.Stand-alone.





	Be a Good Boy

**Author's Note:**

> When I joined the SPN fandom I swore that Wincest fans were weirdos. Then I swore that I'd never read Wincest. Then I swore I'd never write Wincest. Then I swore I wouldn't write Wincest until I wrote a gen fic so my first SPN piece wouldn't be about Wincest. Maybe I should swear I'll never win a million dollars...
> 
> But seriously this is both my first attempt at slash fic and my first venture into SPN. If you are one of the very kind people who have subscribed to my gen fic works, be warned this is not one of them. HEED THE LABELS. Kudos and constructive comments/ criticisms welcome!

“Hiya, Sammy,” Dean chirped with a smirk as Sam entered his room. “We got a case?”

“Nope.”

Dean’s smile faded as he took in his brother’s intense demeanor and he stood from his bed where he’d been listening to old tapes on a Walkman. “Something wrong?”

“Nope.”

Sam stared silently, giving Dean the heebie jeebies.

“You need something?”

“Actually, yes.” Sam said as he closed and locked the door behind him.

  
Dean’s stomach dropped. Normally, he was at complete ease with Sam, but something was goosing his ‘pay attention’ senses. “Sammy, what’s going on?”

  
“Don’t play dumb.” Sam pressed in close enough to make Dean uncomfortable despite the many hours they’d spent in close quarters growing up.

  
“I’m not—“ his words cut off with a yelp as Sam grabbed his arm, hard enough that it would probably leave a bruise. “What the hell?”

  
Dean slapped at his brother’s hand and squirmed trying to break the hold. “Hey! Watch the merchandise.”

  
Sam didn’t respond, instead manhandling Dean so Sam stood behind him which made all the hairs on the back of Dean’s neck stand up. Brother or not, his survival instincts flared and he stomped Sam’s foot, pulling a surprised grunt from his little brother. Dean rushed to the door, but wasn’t even able to disengage the lock before Sam caught him.

  
“You’re not going anywhere,” Sam whispered as his huge hand clamped against Dean’s neck, the pressure pushing him so tightly flush with the door Dean couldn’t lift his head from the surface. Sam used his free hand to pull at Dean’s flannel shirt. No, make that pull _off_ Dean’s flannel shirt. The shirt wafted soundlessly to the floor.

  
“What in hell are you doing?” Dean gritted out, swinging blindly behind him, trying to hit Sam and knock some sense into him. “This joke’s really not funny, ya know.”

  
“Who’s laughing?”

  
Definitely not Dean. In fact, he was the opposite of laughing when Sam’s hand slid under his t-shirt and landed on the extremely sensitive skin at the small of Dean’s back. He forced himself to still, though. Maybe he could use this.

  
There was a small second where Sam had to release the pressure on Dean’s neck to pull the t-shirt up and over. Dean was at a disadvantage because it pinned his arms above his head and obscured his line of sight, but he figured he had the element of surprise and he could use his t-shirt as an improvised weapon.

  
Apparently, Sam figured the same thing. When Dean sprang into action, Sam smoothly followed the motion and used Dean’s own momentum to take him down to the ground. Hard. If Dean wasn’t so winded by the fall, he’d almost be proud of his little brother.

  
Sam landed on Dean’s back, all 220 lbs of him, further knocking the wind out of him.

  
“Someone’s being naughty,” he mocked in a sing-song voice as he freed Dean’s arms from the t-shirt.

  
Dean went limp, absorbing the cold of the floor against his bare chest, as he tried to catch his breath, made all the harder by Sam’s not-insignificant weight pressing down on him. He forced himself to remain calm, just as his decades’ of training dictated. Until he felt the first touch of cool metal around his wrist quickly followed by the snick of the clasp of the bracelet locking. He exploded into motion, wriggling and squirming. Anything to avoid Sam finishing the restraint.

  
But it was no use. With Sam pinning his core to the ground, Dean was stuck and inevitably handcuffed.

  
“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Dean couldn’t see Sam’s face but he could hear the smug grin in his voice.

  
“You know, you always were a weird kid, but I think this has got to top the list,” Dean said, forcing a bravado he didn’t feel into his voice. “What, did you scare all the girls away? Thought you’d practice on me? I go for kinky, but you’re not really my type.”

  
“Keep it up, Dean,” Sam said as he pulled Dean up by his restrained arms, Dean scrambling to get his feet steady under him. “Actually, let me help you get it up.”

  
Icy fear and hot adrenaline raced through Dean’s body as Sam stepped behind him, one big hand across Dean’s chest, pinning him close while the other snaked down, past his belly button to the waistband of Dean’s jeans. The tinkle of his belt clasp sounded preternaturally loud as Sam unhooked it.

  
“Sam… Sammy don’t—“ Dean stuttered, shifting away from the touch.

  
Sam shushed him.

  
“I know what you like,” he whispered and slid his hand into Dean’s underwear.

  
Dean gasped in a breath. “ _Chri—Christo_!”

  
Sam laughed, even as his callused grip tightened around Dean’s cock. “That’s not the magic word.”

  
Dean jerked against Sam’s restraining hold. “I don’t want---“

  
“Yeah, you do,” Sam replied before Dean could even finish his denial. Sam’s grip tightened even more. He stroked Dean inside the tight confines of his clothes, held his brother still, made him listen to the soft rasp of skin sliding over skin, slowly teasing Dean’s cock to full firmness despite Dean’s struggles and denials.

  
A soft moan broke the air and Dean was mortified to realize it came from him. A blush blazed from his eyebrows to his shoulders, making the skin prickle.

  
Sam chuckled, his laugh full of knowing. “Told ya.”

  
Anger re-ignited in Dean and he couldn’t let the cockiness slide. Barely even thinking about it, he let his head snap back full force catching Sam in the mouth.

  
“ _Son of a bitch!_ ”

  
Sam stumbled backwards and Dean didn’t hesitate, making a break for the door. There really was no hope with the door locked and his hands cuffed behind his back, but it was the principle of the matter. He had to keep resisting until he could figure out what had brought this on.

  
Of course, Sam, unhobbled, quickly stopped Dean at the door.

  
“You’re so going to regret that,” Sam murmured, probing his stinging bottom lip with his tongue. The fire burning in his eyes nearly made Dean shrink away from him.  
Sam forcefully turned him around and slammed him against the door, Dean’s face pressed to the surface, Sam’s hand on his neck, much like earlier. Sam slowly worked Dean’s jeans and underwear down his thighs until they rested just above Dean’s knees, making Dean tremble with embarrassment.

  
“Naughty boys get punished, big brother.”

  
The heated breath of the threat tickled across his ear and Dean whimpered, fearful of where this was going. The whimper turned to a yelp when Sam’s gargantuan free hand clapped against his right ass cheek, stunning Dean with unexpected pain. The noise reverberated in the enclosed space, but didn’t have time to dissipate before Sam’s hand made contact again. Dean clenched his eyes shut and all the muscles in his body followed on instinct, waiting for a third strike, but it didn’t seem to be coming. After a few minutes of heavy breathing, Dean couldn’t take the tension and relaxed.

  
“Sam—“

  
The words were knocked out of him as Sam’s hand landed again on the exact same spot, the burn spreading across Dean’s ass cheek and racing up his spine and down his legs. Dean clenched again. And waited.

  
So did Sam.

  
Dean lost again and the next stinging slap came as soon as he was forced to relax.

  
“Sam… please.”

  
But Sam was pitiless. “This will go easier if you cooperate. The more time I spend waiting on you to unclench, the more time my hand has to recover and the longer I can go.”

  
“But it hurts…” Dean hated his voice. He sounded like a whiney, idiot nine-year-old.

  
Sam scoffed. “That’s the point. ‘ _Naughty boys get punished_.’”

  
Dean hesitated for a moment. Sam’s grip on his neck didn’t seem to be weakening. A lifetime of hunting abnormally strong creatures gave them both almost supernatural stamina. As long as he was handcuffed and pinned to the door he was helpless. He needed Sam to make a slip up… If he could get through this, he’d be in a better position to get free if and when Sam moved him.

  
Dean took a deep breath and relaxed his muscles.

  
Sam was slow and deliberate, striking the same place over and over. The pain and burn grew and grew, crawling across the muscle, down his leg and up his back. But Dean refused to break the rule and forced himself to stay relaxed. It went on until Dean barked out what felt like a cough but turned out to be a sob. He was mortified to feel the first tear fall down his face. But as soon as the sound hit the air, the slaps to his ass stopped as though that was what Sam had been waiting for.

  
“That’s okay. You’re okay,” Sam’s intensity turned into to coddling so fast Dean almost couldn’t process the change.

  
Sam pinned Dean against his chest in a reversed bear hug, Dean’s back to his front, and rubbed Dean’s chest and stomach in a surprisingly soothing move as Dean tried to reign in the uncomfortable emotion.

  
“You did good. And now you’ll be a good boy, right?”

  
Dean nodded dumbly.

  
“I want to hear it,” Sam said.

  
“Yes.”

  
“No, I want to hear you promise to be a good boy. Say it.” Sam’s demand was punctuated with a sharp squeeze to Dean’s sore ass cheek.

  
“I—I promise to be a good boy.”

  
Sam hummed and smacked a kiss against the side of Dean’s tear stained face.

  
“Good,” he whispered. “Because you have another cheek, I have another hand, and we have all night.”

  
Dean couldn’t help but shudder at the dark promise.

  
Sam stood there, holding Dean until the crying had completely stopped and Dean found himself getting drowsy from the endorphin rush he’d gotten post-punishment. He was almost asleep on his feet when he felt Sam’s hand slide down his stomach once again to wrap around his cock. This time it was wet with lube Sam had gotten from somewhere, probably Dean’s night table. The tendrils of arousal jolted through Dean whispering _dirtybadwrong_ , making him instinctively curl in on himself.

  
Sam’s hand slapped down, the sting landing just above where the trimmed brown curls framed Dean’s cock, knocking a breathy grunt from Dean.

  
“Let me.”

  
The warning growl deepened his voice.

  
Dean straightened out of the protective posture, slouching back into Sam, letting his brother stroke him back to the hardness he’d had before his punishment. But he still trembled. He couldn’t help it. There was something intensely dirty and scary about being forced to stand there, immobile and unfighting, while his little brother jerked him off in the middle of the room.

  
Sam kept up the pace, long, languid strokes, slowing to gather the pre-cum beading at the head of Dean’s cock. He kicked Dean’s feet apart, pushed his thigh high between Dean’s legs and pulled back at his shoulders, forcing Dean to lean back into him to maintain balance. His hand slid down Dean’s chest down to cup his balls, using his thumb and fingers to roll them firmly, while the forefinger of his stroking hand worked the sensitive spot of skin just under the ridge of his cock head and the thumb worked the slit each time he reached the top of a stroke. Sam continued, all the while kissing Dean’s neck and jawline, until Dean had no choice but to thrust up into the caresses, a moan spilling from his mouth.

  
“There you go. That’s my good boy,” Sam murmured. For some reason, the words pleased Dean, making a fuzzy warmth join the hot flames of arousal already dancing through his body. They stayed like that until Dean’s breathing grew choppy and the thrusts of his hips became sloppy and erratic.

  
“Yeah, yeah,” Dean moaned as his muscles tightened. He could feel it, the tension tingling in the base of his spine. He was nearly there. “Just a—just a little bit more.”

  
“You gonna cum?” Sam asked softly.

  
Dean nodded frantically, squeezing his eyes shut as his whole body tensed and strained.

  
Sam’s strokes sped up, his fist clenched tighter. “Is it good?”

  
Dean grunted, not even able to verbalize what he was feeling. Right there. Just a little bit more and he could—

  
Sam suddenly chose that moment to let go.

  
“Fuck!” Dean howled.

  
The _now now now_ feel good feeling dropped away, leaving him shaky and feeling robbed. Dean whirled around on his brother. “What the fuck? I was almost there.”

  
Sam smiled, not the least bit put out. “I know, but we’re not done.”

  
“I nearly was!” Dean huffed in frustration, still slightly hitching his hips against the jittery feeling coursing through him.

  
Sam kissed Dean’s nose like he was being a huffy little kid. Dean barely resisted the temptation to try to head butt him again, but his sore ass throbbed in a reminder of the consequences.

  
“It’ll be even better when we get there if you do it my way.” Sam pulled Dean’s jeans and underwear the rest of the way down his legs, making Dean step out of them before he kicked them out of the way. Then he stepped around Dean and stacked two of Dean’s pillow at the foot of the bed. He pointed. “Knees spread, head on the pillow, eyes closed.”

  
Dean froze, barely able to swallow against the tickle of fear he felt as he realized how immensely vulnerable the position would make him. Naked, hands locked behind his back, vision gone, cock and balls hanging exposed. He whimpered, pleading with his eyes for Sam to reconsider.

  
“It’s not too late for naughty boys to be punished again,” Sam said, eyes hardening.

  
Dean fidgeted for a long moment, undecided, until Sam sighed and reached for Dean’s arm presumably to put him back against the door.

  
“I’ll be a good boy!” Dean yelped, stutter stepping towards the bed and climbing on carefully so as not to lose his balance.

  
Sam’s hard stare softened to a smile, watching as Dean set his knees hip width apart, took a deep breath, and leaned forward to put his head down, balancing his weight on the pillows before closing his eyes. “Good boy.”

  
Dean tried to get his breathing under control as he listened for sounds of what Sam might be doing, but it was hard to hear over the wild thumping of his heart. Clothes rustled, whumped to the floor. Sam was getting undressed. Dean didn’t know what to think of that. Moments later, the bed dipped, jostling his balance, making him fight to stay upright as Sam climbed on behind him. There was a moment of silence that jangled Dean’s nerves. Sam could be preparing to do anything.

  
Dean yelped and nearly toppled over when a wet pressure swiped between his ass cheeks.

  
“Sorry! Sorry, I didn’t mean to,” he apologized frantically, not wanting to be punished. But excuse the fuck out of him because _Sam was licking his asshole!_

  
Sam’s hands stabilized him. “Don’t have to be sorry. Just have to be a good boy and take whatever I give you.”

  
Sam licked again, his soft tongue laving around the opening of Dean’s body, just firm enough to make Dean feel the pressure. It sent throbs of pleasure through him and Dean struggled not to squirm against the peculiar feeling. The broad stroke licks turned into jabbing pokes mixed with a sucking motion that made Dean’s thighs twitch as Sam worked his tongue into the tight furl. It literally felt like Sam was French kissing his hole, leaving Dean simultaneously wanting to grind in for more and pull away from the intense sensation.

  
Sam settled in, using both hands to keep Dean’s cheeks spread and his hole completely exposed to his attentions. He kissed and licked until Dean was yanking desperately at the cuffs on his wrist, wanting nothing more than to get a hand on his cock. Sam’s tongue finally shifted, trailing from his hole past his taint to his sac. The hard tip of his tongue painted marks known only to Sam for a few moments before he used his tongue to pull one of Dean’s balls into his mouth. Wet heat engulfed the orb as Sam mouthed at it, pulling increasing whimpers from Dean’s chest.

  
“Sam, please!”

  
This seemed to break Sam out of whatever zone he’d gotten lost in. He pulled back, releasing his prize, his breathing heavy and audible. Dean fervently wished he could open his eyes and see Sam’s face right now. But he had to be a good boy.

  
“You should see yourself from this angle. That big, thick cock, throbbing. Tight balls drawing up. Perfect ass, all red from my hands. Your little hole winking at me, begging for more.”

  
Dean flushed with embarrassment.

  
“The things I’m going to do to you.” Sam’s hands massaged his ass cheeks for a long moment, but it wasn’t relaxing as Dean waited for what he would do next. Sam let go and Dean’s whole body twitched as he waited in silence. Straining his ears, he heard the soft snick of the cap of the lube bottle.

  
When a firm finger touched his hole, Dean nearly sat up, only remembering at the last second that he wasn’t allowed. “Sam, I—I don’t usually…”

  
“I know. But you will tonight.”

  
Dean gulped, his body tingling with fear. When Sam increased the pressure, clearly intending to breach, Dean sat up and opened his eyes, rules be damned. “Sammy, I really can’t.”

  
Sam studied him, trying to find something in his face, his eyes.

  
“Is that all you have to say?” he asked.

  
Dean swallowed hard. “Yes.”

  
“Then get back into position.”

  
Dean blinked, startled by the words, but barely having time to gather himself before Sam pressed on his shoulders pushing him back to the pillow.

  
“That’s your last warning,” he said as he pushed the middle finger of one hand firmly against Dean’s sphincter. His free hand flicked a finger, hard, against Dean’s sac sending a shard of pain through him, pulling a sharp hiss from Dean. “And I think I’ll do something different to get your attention next time instead of taking you all the way back to the door.”

  
Dean whimpered, but settled down to let Sam work. He fought the intrusion. He couldn’t help it. Sam said nothing but continued to push, nudging firmly and untiringly at the muscle until Dean’s resistance finally gave and Sam’s finger popped in up to the first knuckle, forcing a grunt out of Dean.

  
“It’s easier if you push down like you’re taking a poop.”

  
Dean made a face at the comparison and continued trying to make his hole as resistant as possible. But the act of tightening actually seemed to be slowly tugging Sam’s finger in. There was no way to keep him out. Sam chuckled seeming to already know what Dean had just figured out.

  
Completely out of churlishness, Dean held completely still. Well, as still as he could be with someone sliding a finger in and out of his ass.

  
Sam worked one finger completely in, nudging around, making Dean’s body accept him. Sam pulled the digit out and a spark of pleasure lit through Dean even though he refused to acknowledge it. He heard the lube cap again before Sam returned this twice pressing with two fingers.

  
“Ahh…” Dean tried to rise up against the larger intrusion.

  
Sam pressed a hand against his neck keeping Dean folded and nudged until Dean’s body allowed first one then both fingers, then worked them in further. Dean groaned, low and harsh, at the additional stretch.

  
Sam kept going until Dean was panting and shaking, but his body easily accepted three Samsquatch-large fingers. Sam scissored his fingers and pushed and prodded until he hit a spot inside of Dean that made him keen and had his hips moving against his own volition.

  
“Is it good?” Sam asked as he worked his fingers into Dean over and over.

  
Dean groaned, but apparently that wasn’t an acceptable answer. Sam flicked a finger against Dean’s balls. “I asked a question.”

  
“’S good…” Dean slurred drunkenly.

  
“Good boy.”

  
Several long minutes later, Sam pulled his fingers out and Dean was appalled to hear himself loudly moan the loss of stimulation, but couldn’t help himself. But before he could voice a complaint, Sam was back, this time lining his cockhead up to Dean’s hole. Dean couldn’t help but tense and panic. It felt a lot larger than the fingers Dean had been reluctantly enjoying.

  
Sam seemingly read his mind. “Hey, calm down. You’ll like it just like you did with my fingers. Just relax.”

  
With that, he pushed.

  
Even with all the stretching, it still hurt. Dean hissed, his back arching and his muscles straining to clamp down against the intrusion, despite Sam’s constant stream of whispered reassurances and reminder that it would hurt less if he relaxed. He forced his body to go lax and tried desperately to find something good to focus on. Sam pushed and paused, pushed and paused, rubbing Dean’s sides and kissing his nape during the pauses.

  
Dean broke. “Sam, please, I need---“

  
“You need what I say you need.” The words were gruff, but at the same time Sam began a firm massage of the base of Dean’s neck where he was straining the most. It helped. Dean was able to zone in on that good touch to balance the stretch and burn of Sam’s initial penetration.

  
“I’m in,” Sam said quietly as his hips finally settled firmly against Dean’s ass.

  
“Oh God,” Dean moaned.

  
“Nope,” Sam chuckled. “Just me.”

  
Sam held still, letting Dean adjust, rubbing at different tension spots up and down Dean’s spine until Dean was as relaxed as he could be with a friggin’ _parking cone_ up his ass.

  
“’S good,” Dean mumbled.

  
Sam pulled out slowly, which lit up nerves Dean didn’t even know he had and enticed back the rigidity his cock had lost during the ordeal of getting Sam inside. The in might be a little painful, but the out might be just about worth it. Sam worked until Dean was humming steadily.

  
“It gets better,” Sam said, a smirk in his voice. And then he pulled Dean up to sit in his lap.

  
If Sam simply being inside of Dean had lit up Dean’s nerves, sitting up in Sam’s lap completely overloaded them, the complete fullness and intense pressure overwhelming his senses.

  
“ _Holy fuck._ ”

  
Sam held him across the chest, making up for the balance Dean lost because of his captive hands and helped him work himself up and down to get the best sensation. Before long, his skin was slick and he was panting and begging shamelessly.

  
“Please. Please. I need…”

  
“What do you need?”

  
Dean grunted as his hips continued to rotate, searching for that spot that made fire dance across his nerves. “I need… your… your hand. Need you to... to touch me...”

  
“You want me to jerk you off while you ride my cock?”

  
The dirty words skittered across Dean’s nerves, sending a thrill through him. “Yeah. Please Sammy...”

  
Sam acquiesced and grabbed Dean in a firm grip that had pre-cum dripping down his cock and a burning gathering at the base of Dean’s spine. The sweet tug-tug-tug of Sam’s hand on his dick combined with the pleasure-pain of Sam filling him pushed Dean hurtling to towards the edge.

  
“Gonna cum, Sammy...”

  
“No, you’re not,” Sam replied with a huff, keeping his strokes quick but steady and thrusting up into Dean’s motions.

  
“Yeah-huh,” Dean insisted, grinding down harder, whining as the pleasurable feelings bubbled higher and higher.

  
“You cum when I say you cum.”

  
But Dean had found the kernel of pleasure and latched on to it. His thighs trembled as he worked himself up and down Sam’s cock, nearly frantic. He gasped for air, thrusting into Sam’s tight grip. It was right there. He could feel it. Muscles straining, tightening, the blood rushing in his ears.

  
“Gonna, gonna!”

  
But just as Dean almost tipped over, Sam’s fingers clamped down on the base of his cock and gave his balls a brutal tug, snatching Dean back out of the arms of release, yanking a pained cry from him.

  
“Jesus fuck, what are you doing?” Dean yelled, snapping his head back in frustration.

  
Regret flooded him almost before he felt his head make contact with Sam’s mouth and long before he heard Sam yelp in pain.

  
“Sorry! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to!” Dean blurted frantically. He tensed and his balls shrank into his body in anticipation of Sam following through on his threat.

  
Sam didn’t say anything. Dean wanted to open his eyes and see Sam’s expression but he was already in trouble. He dropped his head back to the pillow, hoping the submissive position would appease his little brother, groaning when the move shifted Sam inside of his already throbbing body. But Sam pulled him right back up, pinning Dean to his chest. Dean’s thigh muscles twitched as he fought the need to close his legs and protect his balls. He waited anxiously for the first thump to fall.

He gave an embarrassing yelp he would never admit to in a million years when Sam’s hand instead gripped his cock. Sam started working him hard and fast. Dean’s body lurched, confused by the whiplash of emotion and stimulation, but quickly launched back to the edge of release. Sam’s hips slapped into his ass as he brutally pounded up into Dean. Dean’s heart thumped wildly as he approached the point of no return and he bit his lips afraid to say anything since he’d been here twice already. But Sam didn’t slow down. In fact, his hand around Dean’s cock tightened and sped up. Maybe he was tired of whatever game he was playing. Dean hummed excitedly into the feeling. The tingling spread, amping up into the best type of burning. His muscles screamed. He was there! And—

  
Sam jerked out of his body and let go of his cock.

  
“NO!” Dean howled, tugging wildly at his handcuffs, frantically looking for the friction he needed, but he couldn’t find it in those crucial seconds where touch was required to make an orgasm feel good. He tried to curl in on himself, get his cock to rub against his stomach, the bed, _anything_ , but Sam wouldn’t let him, instead rearing back, forcing Dean’s spine straight as his hips jerked futilely in the air. He felt his cock spasming, cum dribbling slowly down its sides. He hissed and strained until the spasms stopped, leaving him hollow. Ejaculation complete, but orgasm fizzled out into a frustrating nothing, every bit of built-up tension still in his body.

  
Sam finally let Dean flop down on his side and curl in on himself, long after any pleasure could be pulled from the position. He wrapped his body around Dean and nipped cruelly at his ear. “Naughty boys get punished.”

  
Dean didn’t even answer, his breath hitching just this side of a sob. His body was buzzing like he was still on the edge of orgasm, but simultaneously sending him signals that he was done. He wasn’t sure what to do next. He wanted to lash out as Sam, but it would probably get him in more trouble. It didn’t feel like an exaggeration to say he might die if he had to take a punishment on top of how he was already feeling.

  
After a few seconds, Sam kissed Dean’s cheek and smoothed his hand through Dean’s hair. “You ready to be a good boy now?”

  
Dean sighed, eyebrows lifted. “I can’t.”

  
They weren’t teenagers anymore. He needed more than a few minutes to recover.

  
Sam grinned. “You can. You’ll just have to work for it. And if I’m happy, I can make sure you’re happy.”

  
Antsy frustration still danced through Dean’s muscles. The promise of a satisfying orgasm was too great to resist even if he was wary of Sam’s dimpled promise. He nodded slowly.

  
“Excellent. Back in position. You don’t have to close your eyes unless you want.”

  
Sam helped Dean back up and Dean quickly spread his knees and settled down onto the pillow. “Sammy, I’m pretty sensitive after I’ve cum… even if I didn’t really get to enjoy it.”

  
“I know,” Sam said simply. “That’s why I said you’d have to earn it.”

  
That was all the warning he got before Sam lined up and pushed all the way back in.

  
“ _Fuck!_ ”

  
Sam draped over Dean, who was struggling to calm himself. “Take a deep breath and be a good boy.”

  
Dean hummed, gritting his teeth against the overwhelming sensitivity as his body objected to being used again so soon.

  
“You ready?” Sam’s hand settled around Dean’s cock.

  
“It’s too soon.”

  
Sam smiled. “I know.”

  
Sam turned Dean’s head and gave him a filthy kiss, one that made his cock reconsider his statement and give a half-hearted attempt. Sam started to tug, a down and dirty rabbiting rhythm that would have felt amazing a half an hour ago, but right now made Dean want to shriek. It was too sharp, too much, too soon. Dean’s hips danced, trying to get away from it which only pushed him back on to Sam’s cock. Sam’s thrusts sent pops up pleasure up Dean’s spine but they were too random. Dean was trying but all he could feel was the over-stimulation streaking through his system.

  
“C’mon, Dean,” Sam’s voice rumbled through him. “Naughty boys get punished...”

  
Dean couldn’t even imagine how Sam might punish him this time, but he didn’t aim to find out. He determinedly pushed into Sam’s grip, trying to sink into the feeling. After a silent moment of rapid thrusting and heavy breathing, one of the sparks caught like a Bic’s lighter finally flaring to life after being flicked repeatedly. The sensation began anew, still overly sharp, but good.

  
“There you go,” Sam murmured, his strokes steady.

  
Dean panted, focused on riding the feeling to the finish line before his nerves decided they couldn’t tolerate any more of this. His hips circled back sharply into Sam, squeezing tightly around the cock stuffed inside of him, letting the fullness push him where he wanted to be.

  
Sam groaned and ratcheted up his speed on Dean’s cock, triggering an answering groan.

  
“You gotta cum before me,” Sam bit out.

  
Dean barely resisted a snarky complaint about the added pressure. He instead kept thrusting into the wet, tight, warmth of Sam’s hand. Heat licked down his spine and his thigh muscles were twitching. He could do this.

  
Sam increased his own efforts, hips slamming into him so hard, Dean was certain he’d have bruises from it tomorrow. But none of that mattered as his ears started to ring and he could feel the tell-tale tingling.

  
“Ugh…Sam... Sammy, gonna!”

  
“G’head,” Sam slurred. He tightened his grip impossibly more and ground his thumb into a tight circle over the head of Dean’s cock. It was the push Dean needed.  
He grunted so heavily it made him cough. His hips jerked and… finally, sweet release. Dean nearly sobbed with it as his cock pulsed, spitting cum onto his stomach to dribble down and pool in his belly button. Not as much as the first time, but a shit ton more satisfying.

  
Dean sighed and started to sag, held up only by Sam’s embrace as Sam pumped through the last few strains of his own release, thrusts Dean knew he would still be feeling tomorrow. When he was done, Sam slumped over Dean, letting go of his fading cock to stroke his chest softly, dropping sucking kisses all over Dean’s back.

  
“That was really good. You were so good. Proud of you.”

  
“ _Nngh_ ,” Dean croaked, completely wrung out.

  
Sam cradled him, sliding his hands everywhere he could reach. It felt nice. Pleasant even. Dean hummed letting himself get lost in the motions, slowly drifting until he jerked back to reality with a hiss as Sam reached for his cock again even as Sam’s own cock softened and slipped out of him.

  
“Sam. I can’t.”

  
Sam smirked and started tugging. “I think you can.”

  
“No, seriously. I can’t.”

  
“Hmm… that’s not what a good boy would say...”

  
Dean gritted his teeth as even the soft tugging made his nerves flare painfully. He tried to swallow the feelings down, but finally couldn’t. “Flagstaff.”

  
Sam immediately let him go and sat up. “Are you okay?”

  
Dean nodded, catching his breath. “Yeah. I’m just—I don’t have anything left. Sorry.”

  
“Don’t apologize,” Sam said as he unlocked the cuffs. “That’s why we have safe words. You did amazing.”

  
Dean stretched, hissing as the blood rushed back into his arms. Sam pushed him down to the bed and slowly massaged his arms and shoulders until the tingles stopped. Then he got up, unlocked and opened the door, and crossed the hall to the bathroom, coming back with a wash cloth and a small bowl of water, and gently wiped Dean from head to toe, front and back. Normally, Dean didn’t allow this much fussing, but hell, he’d earned it today.

  
Finally, when they were both warm, dry, and comfortably tucked in bed, Dean turned to Sam.

  
“Naughty boys get punished?”

  
Sam blushed. “Shut up. You loved it.”

**Author's Note:**

> Flagstaff, for obvious reasons, is Dean's safe word to let Sam know he's doing something Dean can't tolerate...


End file.
